


11 blocks from my door to your doorstep

by robzisapanda



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, I have never worked in either so I'm very sorry if some things are inaccurate, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8263459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robzisapanda/pseuds/robzisapanda
Summary: Harry has a shitty flat, and he has to be awake at god awful hours in the morning and he is going to keep using that as an excuse to not be dating and there’s nothing his mum or sister can say to prove him wrong. Yes, all he dreamed of for most of his teenage years was finding “the one” but he’s an adult now, he’s twenty-three and he doesn’t have time for childish fantasies like that anymore.Unfortunately, this new customer at the bakery who orders a cup of tea and a chocolate chip muffin every afternoon and stares out the window like his whole world has ended is changing his view.As always, my summary is about as shitty as the actual work probably is.





	1. Eleven blocks

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's eleven pm and I usually would never let myself publish anything I haven't proof-read at least twice and double-checked for three days minimum and changed about fourteen time, but this is the first time in over a month that I have managed to put together more than five hundred words I vaguely like, so enjoy this mess I really just need to get out I suppose.
> 
> Please leave kudos or comments (or even just vaguely smile if you want.) Have a great day and thank you for reading xx

Inspired by "11 Blocks" by Wrabel. If you haven't heard it yet, you should. I hope you enjoy this lovelies x

 **NB:** Please skip straight to chapter "2" if you have not yet read this first chapter. Like an absolute idiot I left out a whole paragraph in this version and don't want to update it until everyone has read the proper one and seen my note. So sorry about this, I will bold the bit that I left out...Much love x

 

His alarm woke him up at four am, as it did every morning, and he groaned in frustration, as he did every morning, regretting his decision to ever walk into that bakery with the “Help Wanted” sign. He had barely been asleep for four hours and would much rather roll over and go back to sleep, but it was the sudden crash and following expletives from outside his apartment that had him pushing himself up, as it always did in the morning, as his neighbour got home from work. He needed to get out of this apartment as soon as possible.

Harry shuffled over to his bathroom, turning on the shitty shower and stumbling out to the tiny kitchen and placing his shitty kettle on his shitty stove, turning the plate on high and checking the kettle was full. He yawned his way back to the bathroom, the water finally starting to warm. He stripped himself of his briefs and pulled his toothbrush from the cup on the sink, allowing the toothpaste to foam in his mouth as he climbed into the shower, the almost hot water pattering onto him, some streams jetting directly into his skin, almost attempting to burrow through the muscles, into the very bloodstreams to stay warm. Other streams barely dribbled onto his neck, slower than a dripping tap with a faulty faucet.

He was quick to soap up his body, leaving his toothbrush to hang out of his mouth, his teeth holding it half-heartedly in. Sometimes he imagined slipping in the shower and the toothbrush slamming down his throat, he aimlessly wondered if his deep-throating abilities would save him or if he would die from the intrusion, it was quite a way to go at least if he did. He spat, aiming around his feet but still spattering some foam on his big toe, grimacing at the sensation of toothpaste froth dripping in between his toes. After rinsing himself off and slipping his toothbrush back into his mouth he turned to stand under the water, it was beginning to cool already and he only sighed before turning the tap off and stepping out. He dropped his toothbrush back into its cup on the sink and dragged one of the slightly frayed towels from the hook on the back of the door, absent-mindedly wiping down and securing it around his waist. He returned to the kitchen in time for the kettle to start bubbling at him. The mug he pulled from the shelf above the stove was a dark green and was chipped in three places but he felt it helped to represent his shitty life at the moment. He dropped two spoons of coffee in and filled it with water. He glanced out the tiny window above the sink as he leaned back to stir the coffee. The sky was grey, as always, but a more apocalyptic grey, almost brownish-yellow and there was a slight haze in the air, Harry wondered if the apocalypse was approaching or if he was simply losing his mind. _Both were possible._

It’s only sometime later, when he’s dressed in a shirt only slightly dirty, still smelling vaguely of smoke from Nick the day before, and heading down the stairs of his apartment block, that Harry remembers he forgot to make his bed; that fact irritates him for the rest of the day and he tries not to think too hard of his crumpled sheets and cold duvet cover.

 

x

 

Louis’s phone ringing shocks him out of the doze he had slipped into while standing in the shower. He quickly rinses and shuts off the water, dreading Zayn’s glare when the water bill comes in that month, he needs to stop making this a habit.

“Hello?” He knows his voice sounds rough, but he’s tired and he chain-smoked a couple too many cigarettes on his way home.

“Mate, can you let me in? I think if I knock one more time Liam will come out and kill me, or worse, Gemma.” Zayn’s voice is barely a whisper and Louis wraps himself in a towel, hanging up and tripping through the hallway from the bathroom, unlatching the door and tugging it open for a dishevelled looking Zayn, leaning on the door frame, his phone still held to his face.

“You look worse than I feel.” Zayn only glares at Louis’s words and shoves past.

“Don’t even fucking start with me. I would have been home an hour ago except this fucking group of teenage girls come in, giggling away and whispering for fucking three hours. And do you want to know what they ordered the whole time they were there? One fucking cappuccino each!” He obviously doesn’t want a response because he’s already walking into his room, dragging his feet and tugging off clothing as he goes.

Louis follows and watches as Zayn tips into bed, one of his shoes still on and his jeans only half done. He’s already almost asleep.

Louis only tightens his towel and goes to the bed, goes to Zayn, as he always does. He manoeuvres him up to the pillows, heaving the duvet out from under him. First he pulls off his remaining boot, undoing the laces properly before throwing it somewhere in the room. He pulls off his socks at the same time as his jeans and then rolls Zayn until he’s on his side, pulling the duvet over him and tucking it around him.

It’s only as he’s turning to go that a hand suddenly reaches out for his wrist. Bony fingers wrapping around the small joints of his arm. He turns back and Zayn is smiling in that way that makes Louis smile.

“Lou, will you just fucking marry me so we can do this every day without me always feeling guilty for making you do it?” Louis only laughs and leans forward to press a kiss to Zayn’s hair.

“You have to buy me dinner first at least Malik, then I’m going to need quite the diamond ring. I’m not a cheap date, just a warning.” Zayn only smiles and lets goes of Louis’s hand.

“Love you Lou, see you later. Have a good one.” His eyes are already shut when he’s done and his breaths have evened out as Louis pulls his door shut and goes back to his bedroom to get dressed. As he steps out of his building, dressed in his uniform and the stars just staring to evaporate, the sun seeping into the sky like milk into black coffee, he looks to his left.

_Eleven blocks._

He shakes his head and turns right, walking quickly with his hands shoved in his pockets thinking of anything else.

 

x

 

When Harry gets to the bakery, it’s only just starting to get light and the sun is dripping icing on top of dark chocolate cakes. He quickly lets himself in, switching on all of the ovens. He changes into his uniform shirt, striped shirt feeling clean and starched and pulls his apron over the top. He scrubs his hands in the sink and switches on ovens in the dark, easily sliding premixed baking trays from storage into the ovens by the faint light from the street light outside the window. It’s only when he heads out into the shop that he switches the kitchen lights on. While he leaves the ovens he pulls chairs from on top of the tables and drops them back onto the ground, the light bulb in the corner of the room flickering sometimes. He makes a note to replace it once everything is out.

Without thought he switches on the coffee machine, allowing it to warm and prepare itself for the morning onslaught. The whirring sound of the filters and foamers always remind him of soldiers preparing for battle and he feels for the poor over-used machine.

Ally comes in just as Harry is starting to load the display shelves and she waves at him, neither of them speaking yet. Harry smiles in response as she pulls out two cups to makes them both cappuccinos. He sees her eye the flickering bulb as well and then notes the ladder Harry already has pushed against the wall, a physical reminder to make sure to fix it before they open. Silently they set up display after display, Ally going back into the kitchen to put their empty mugs in the dishwasher. Harry quickly pulls the ladder up, easily changing out the bulb in the lightening shop from the outside.

This was always Harry’s favourite time of the day, the moments when it felt like the world was only just becoming aware of this tiny store and their tiny existences. He leaves the lights off for a few more minutes while he puts away the ladder.

“You ready?” He looks up at Ally, leaning against the counter with her apron tied and hair pulled up.

Harry smiles and switches the lights back on. He flips over the “Closed” sign and unlocks the door.

“Let’s do this.”

 

x

 

Once Niall’s gone, Louis pours himself his own cup of tea, glaring at the coffee machines and hating the fact that he already smelled like coffee beans. He shuffles closer to the vanilla and caramel flavourings, hoping that he can suck the very scents from the large containers into his skin. Liam comes in yawning an hour and a half later and smiles at Louis, he prefers Liam sometimes. Liam lets him be sad and quiet for the morning when he’s even too tired to really bother. That will change as Liam manages to consume more caffeine than Louis thinks should even be possible for one person and Liam will frown when Louis sits outside in the alley, staring sadly at the wall and drag him inside to have a blueberry muffin with him. After six years, Louis still can’t find the heart to tell him he hates blueberries.

For now though, Louis can wrap himself in dissatisfaction and let the thought _sixteen blocks_ chase itself around his head, pushing and shoving until all other thoughts, anything sounding like _that’s not enough_ or _it’s stupid and not important and you should forget it_ being battered into the back corners until he forgets they were ever there.

Those thoughts will only be entirely shoved away when the breakfast rush comes in. Louis makes cappuccino after cappuccino and latte after latte, slowly beginning to smell more and more like coffee, slowly losing his inclination to sadness, laughing with regulars and making friends with the newbies. Liam smiles at him today in the corner of his eye and Louis thinks _maybe today._

 

x

 

This morning is busier than usual. Harry knows that it’s because of the miserable weather but doesn’t let it deter him, being even more charming and friendly and warm than usual, Ally matching him step for step until they’re both exhausted when the shop is finally entirely empty. It’s already after nine and they share a breakfast of espressos and crumbling, reject croissants, chatting amicably over the counter. A lone customer wanders in halfway through and Harry immediately slides the cups and plate under the counter helping the older man with an order for his niece. While he does that a young couple stumble in, leaning into each other and Harry’s eyes catch on them. For just a moment he feels a longing, a pull like the Earth to the Sun and he quickly looks away, leaving Ally to handle them. He tries to ignore their love-struck giggles into each other shoulders while Ally prepares their scones, wrapping them and boxing them easily while easily chatting about their plans for the day. Harry focuses on reorganising the display trays and suddenly there are customers trickling in again and they forget about their breakfast.

It’s only when it’s nearing lunch time that Harry notices that Max hasn’t arrived yet. He glances at the clock and frowns at the fact that Max is, yet again, late. He bites his lip, seeing Ally see the time as well and narrowing her eyes. Max has really been pushing it recently and Ally and Macy are beginning to tire of it. Just before the lunch rush, Ally calls him, repeatedly. It’s only after her fifth attempt that Harry turns to her.

“I don’t think he’s coming in Al.” Harry can sense her fury and is, as always, impressed by how she manages to hide it. Her face is still composed, her lips only slightly pressed together and then she sighs.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to have to have a chat with Macy later. I’ll give Becs a call, maybe she can come in early and cover and I’ll come in to take her shift.” Harry is already shaking his head as she’s finishing.

“I can cover, don’t worry. You’ve taken his shift too many times these last few weeks, I can take this one.” Ally frowns and is already opening her mouth to argue. “Don’t even start with me Alison. I don’t care if you’re my boss, I’m going to tell you that you look exhausted and you need to rest. Go home after the lunch rush and I’ll take Max’s shift and hand over to Becs. You need to sleep and then you can come back tomorrow.” Ally pauses and chews on the inside of her lower lip.

“I’ll go after lunch and then come back at four, I don’t expect you to work two shifts straight H. It’s quiet enough that I know you’ll be fine this afternoon, the only thing I ever do when I’m on with Max is extras in the back anyway and then I’ll do four-close with Becs and Mace, we can get all the paperwork and admin done then too. Don’t argue with me Styles, this one is an order.” Harry only smiles at her.

“Promise you’ll go home and sleep?” He holds out his hand, his pinkie finger outstretched and Ally rolls her eyes at him. She hooks her own finger through, regardless and chuckles, nodding at him and turning to release his finger as the bell above the door rings.

 

x

 

Louis is tired by the end of his shift. It had started to slow after breakfast time and by eleven o’clock it’s quiet and Liam is wiping down counters, now is when Louis struggles to keep his head in check. Now is when he feels sad and a bit broken and useless and pointless and out of place. He knows when Liam has picked up on his mood and can already see the Concerned Eyebrows™ (Zayn’s title for them) targeting him and he quickly smiles and points to the back door, quickly taking his break outside. He pulls out a cigarette, hoping to eradicate the permanent smell of coffee attached to his shirt. He’s only halfway through when he hears the bell on the counter inside ding loudly, signalling the need for help.

He drops his smoke, quickly twisting it underfoot and pushing back inside, shoving a piece of gum into his mouth. He strolls back into the store and sees the emergence. There’s a mass group of teenage girls standing before the counter and Liam is already halfway through a latte, a line of cups with scribbled orders written on them standing ready for battle on the counter before him. He smiles at the girls, making conversation as easily as vanilla lattes and laughing along with them.

When they all walk out, phones in hand and takeaway cups already poised in the air, the faint sound of camera snaps and loud chatter surrounding them like an aura, Liam is already turning away, trying not to laugh. He fails miserably as Louis juts out a hip, lifts an empty cup from the counter and holds it beside his face. He pouts out his lips and lifts a phantom phone to take a selfie, they’re guffawing into each other’s shoulders within seconds.

The rest of his shift passes smoothly and when Eleanor comes in, her smile tired and her hugs warm he feels like his day has been successful: he has managed to hide his emptiness from Liam yet again. It’s not that he doesn’t want his best friend to know that he feels like he’s nothing and that there’s no longer any point to his life, except Liam would never understand and would sit him down with his Concerned Eyebrows™ and blueberry muffins and Louis knows that it won’t help.

Once he’s said goodbye to Liam and Eleanor, waving a farewell and wrapping his coat around him to try and suck some of the last scents of washing powder into his nose rather than the overwhelming wave of bitter coffee, he fails.

He’s almost two blocks past his flat before he realises how far he’s gone and then he freezes. _Nine blocks now._

It takes him almost a full minute to make himself turn around and walk back the way he had come. Except he doesn’t go to his flat, he doesn’t even stop at the coffee shop, he needs to keep going. _It’s all too close. Twenty-two blocks, twenty-three blocks._

It’s only at thirty-nine blocks that he stops. The bakery smells beautiful and, looking around, Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been this far north and considers going further. Getting further away but glances into the bakery again instead.

With a deep breath he glances back the way he’s come, he stares. _Thirty nine blocks._ Somehow it still feels too close. He steps toward the bakery and pushes the door open instead.

 

x

 

So obviously I've never done dual POV before, and I don't think I'll do it for very long. Also I know this was a super short chapter but I really just wanted to get it up and created and done. Hopefully I'll have a second, longer chapter up by the end of the week, I promise to try.

Please leave kudos or comments (love me some comments) down below if you want.

Lots of love xx


	2. Eleven Blocks (yet again)

**Hi! SO, if you saw my note on the last chapter you will know about my idiocy of leaving out half a section in the first "first chapter". Please note that I have bolded the part that I left out so if you DO want to just skip to it you can, I guess. This isn't a long chapter though so, at least you don't have to read for hours. My real second chapter will be going up in about two hours time. :)**

 

His alarm woke him up at four am, as it did every morning, and he groaned in frustration, as he did every morning, regretting his decision to ever walk into that bakery with the “Help Wanted” sign. He had barely been asleep for four hours and would much rather roll over and go back to sleep, but it was the sudden crash and following expletives from outside his apartment that had him pushing himself up, as it always did in the morning, as his neighbour got home from work. He needed to get out of this apartment as soon as possible.

Harry shuffled over to his bathroom, turning on the shitty shower and stumbling out to the tiny kitchen and placing his shitty kettle on his shitty stove, turning the plate on high and checking the kettle was full. He yawned his way back to the bathroom, the water finally starting to warm. He stripped himself of his briefs and pulled his toothbrush from the cup on the sink, allowing the toothpaste to foam in his mouth as he climbed into the shower, the almost hot water pattering onto him, some streams jetting directly into his skin, almost attempting to burrow through the muscles, into the very bloodstreams to stay warm. Other streams barely dribbled onto his neck, slower than a dripping tap with a faulty faucet.

He was quick to soap up his body, leaving his toothbrush to hang out of his mouth, his teeth holding it half-heartedly in. Sometimes he imagined slipping in the shower and the toothbrush slamming down his throat, he aimlessly wondered if his deep-throating abilities would save him or if he would die from the intrusion, it was quite a way to go at least if he did. He spat, aiming around his feet but still spattering some foam on his big toe, grimacing at the sensation of toothpaste froth dripping in between his toes. After rinsing himself off and slipping his toothbrush back into his mouth he turned to stand under the water, it was beginning to cool already and he only sighed before turning the tap off and stepping out. He dropped his toothbrush back into its cup on the sink and dragged one of the slightly frayed towels from the hook on the back of the door, absent-mindedly wiping down and securing it around his waist. He returned to the kitchen in time for the kettle to start bubbling at him. The mug he pulled from the shelf above the stove was a dark green and was chipped in three places but he felt it helped to represent his shitty life at the moment. He dropped two spoons of coffee in and filled it with water. He glanced out the tiny window above the sink as he leaned back to stir the coffee. The sky was grey, as always, but a more apocalyptic grey, almost brownish-yellow and there was a slight haze in the air, Harry wondered if the apocalypse was approaching or if he was simply losing his mind. _Both were possible._

It’s only sometime later, when he’s dressed in a shirt only slightly dirty, still smelling vaguely of smoke from Nick the day before, and heading down the stairs of his apartment block, that Harry remembers he forgot to make his bed; that fact irritates him for the rest of the day and he tries not to think too hard of his crumpled sheets and cold duvet cover.

 

 x

 

Louis’s phone ringing shocks him out of the doze he had slipped into while standing in the shower. He quickly rinses and shuts off the water, dreading Zayn’s glare when the water bill comes in that month, he needs to stop making this a habit.

“Hello?” He knows his voice sounds rough, but he’s tired and he chain-smoked a couple too many cigarettes on his way home.

“Mate, can you let me in? I think if I knock one more time Liam will come out and kill me, or worse, Gemma.” Zayn’s voice is barely a whisper and Louis wraps himself in a towel, hanging up and tripping through the hallway from the bathroom, unlatching the door and tugging it open for a dishevelled looking Zayn, leaning on the door frame, his phone still held to his face.

“You look worse than I feel.” Zayn only glares at Louis’s words and shoves past.

“Don’t even fucking start with me. I would have been home an hour ago except this fucking group of teenage girls come in, giggling away and whispering for fucking three hours. And do you want to know what they ordered the whole time they were there? One fucking cappuccino each!” He obviously doesn’t want a response because he’s already walking into his room, dragging his feet and tugging off clothing as he goes.

Louis follows and watches as Zayn tips into bed, one of his shoes still on and his jeans only half done. He’s already almost asleep.

Louis only tightens his towel and goes to the bed, goes to Zayn, as he always does. He manoeuvres him up to the pillows, heaving the duvet out from under him. First he pulls off his remaining boot, undoing the laces properly before throwing it somewhere in the room. He pulls off his socks at the same time as his jeans and then rolls Zayn until he’s on his side, pulling the duvet over him and tucking it around him.

It’s only as he’s turning to go that a hand suddenly reaches out for his wrist. Bony fingers wrapping around the small joints of his arm. He turns back and Zayn is smiling in that way that makes Louis smile.

“Lou, will you just fucking marry me so we can do this every day without me always feeling guilty for making you do it?” Louis only laughs and leans forward to press a kiss to Zayn’s hair.

“You have to buy me dinner first at least Malik, then I’m going to need quite the diamond ring. I’m not a cheap date, just a warning.” Zayn only smiles and lets goes of Louis’s hand.

“Love you Lou, see you later. Have a good one.” His eyes are already shut when he’s done and his breaths have evened out as Louis pulls his door shut and goes back to his bedroom to get dressed. As he steps out of his building, dressed in his uniform and the stars just staring to evaporate, the sun seeping into the sky like milk into black coffee, he looks to his left.

_Eleven blocks._

He shakes his head and turns right, walking quickly with his hands shoved in his pockets thinking of anything else.

 

x

 

When Harry gets to the bakery, it’s only just starting to get light and the sun is dripping icing on top of dark chocolate cakes. He quickly lets himself in, switching on all of the ovens. He changes into his uniform shirt, striped shirt feeling clean and starched and pulls his apron over the top. He scrubs his hands in the sink and switches on ovens in the dark, easily sliding premixed baking trays from storage into the ovens by the faint light from the street light outside the window. It’s only when he heads out into the shop that he switches the kitchen lights on. While he leaves the ovens he pulls chairs from on top of the tables and drops them back onto the ground, the light bulb in the corner of the room flickering sometimes. He makes a note to replace it once everything is out.

Without thought he switches on the coffee machine, allowing it to warm and prepare itself for the morning onslaught. The whirring sound of the filters and foamers always remind him of soldiers preparing for battle and he feels for the poor over-used machine.

Ally comes in just as Harry is starting to load the display shelves and she waves at him, neither of them speaking yet. Harry smiles in response as she pulls out two cups to makes them both cappuccinos. He sees her eye the flickering bulb as well and then notes the ladder Harry already has pushed against the wall, a physical reminder to make sure to fix it before they open. Silently they set up display after display, Ally going back into the kitchen to put their empty mugs in the dishwasher. Harry quickly pulls the ladder up, easily changing out the bulb in the lightening shop from the outside.

This was always Harry’s favourite time of the day, the moments when it felt like the world was only just becoming aware of this tiny store and their tiny existences. He leaves the lights off for a few more minutes while he puts away the ladder.

“You ready?” He looks up at Ally, leaning against the counter with her apron tied and hair pulled up.

Harry smiles and switches the lights back on. He flips over the “Closed” sign and unlocks the door.

“Let’s do this.”

 

x

 

**Louis’s arrival to work is never quiet. He always takes over from Niall, who always takes the graveyard, and there are always loud greetings and friendly hand-overs. Niall usually stays on for an extra half an hour, just chatting with Louis and helping him set up for morning rush. Louis would never admit it to Niall, because he really does love him and knows that if he didn’t take over from him he would only just manage to limp through his shift, but he liked it a lot more once Niall’s left and he can enjoy staring out of the window sadly in peace.**

**(A.N.: yeah, that's all it was. Sorry everyone xx)**

Once Niall’s gone, Louis pours himself his own cup of tea, glaring at the coffee machines and hating the fact that he already smelled like coffee beans. He shuffles closer to the vanilla and caramel flavourings, hoping that he can suck the very scents from the large containers into his skin. Liam comes in yawning an hour and a half later and smiles at Louis, he prefers Liam sometimes. Liam lets him be sad and quiet for the morning when he’s even too tired to really bother. That will change as Liam manages to consume more caffeine than Louis thinks should even be possible for one person and Liam will frown when Louis sits outside in the alley, staring sadly at the wall and drag him inside to have a blueberry muffin with him. After six years, Louis still can’t find the heart to tell him he hates blueberries.

For now though, Louis can wrap himself in dissatisfaction and let the thought _sixteen blocks_ chase itself around his head, pushing and shoving until all other thoughts, anything sounding like _that’s not enough_ or _it’s stupid and not important and you should forget it_ being battered into the back corners until he forgets they were ever there.

Those thoughts will only be entirely shoved away when the breakfast rush comes in. Louis makes cappuccino after cappuccino and latte after latte, slowly beginning to smell more and more like coffee, slowly losing his inclination to sadness, laughing with regulars and making friends with the newbies. Liam smiles at him today in the corner of his eye and Louis thinks _maybe today._

 

x

This morning is busier than usual. Harry knows that it’s because of the miserable weather but doesn’t let it deter him, being even more charming and friendly and warm than usual, Ally matching him step for step until they’re both exhausted when the shop is finally entirely empty. It’s already after nine and they share a breakfast of espressos and crumbling, reject croissants, chatting amicably over the counter. A lone customer wanders in halfway through and Harry immediately slides the cups and plate under the counter helping the older man with an order for his niece. While he does that a young couple stumble in, leaning into each other and Harry’s eyes catch on them. For just a moment he feels a longing, a pull like the Earth to the Sun and he quickly looks away, leaving Ally to handle them. He tries to ignore their love-struck giggles into each other shoulders while Ally preps their scones, wrapping them and boxing them easily while easily chatting about their plans for the day. Harry focuses on reorganising the display trays and suddenly there are customers trickling in again and they forget about their breakfast.

It’s only when it’s nearing lunch time that Harry notices that Max hasn’t arrived yet. He glances at the clock and frowns at the fact that Max is, yet again, late. He bites his lip, seeing Ally see the time as well and narrowing her eyes. Max has really been pushing it recently and Ally and Macy are beginning to tire of it. Just before the lunch rush, Ally calls him, repeatedly. It’s only after her fifth attempt that Harry turns to her.

“I don’t think he’s coming in Al.” Harry can sense her fury and is, as always, impressed by how she manages to hide it. Her face is still composed, her lips only slightly pressed together and then she sighs.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to have to have a chat with Macy later. I’ll give Becs a call, maybe she can come in early and cover and I’ll come in to take her shift.” Harry is already shaking his head as she’s finishing.

“I can cover, don’t worry. You’ve taken his shift too many times these last few weeks, I can take this one.” Ally frowns and is already opening her mouth to argue. “Don’t even start with me Alison. I don’t care if you’re my boss, I’m going to tell you that you look exhausted and you need to rest. Go home after the lunch rush and I’ll take Max’s shift and hand over to Becs. You need to sleep and then you can come back tomorrow.” Ally pauses and chews on the inside of her lower lip.

“I’ll go after lunch and then come back at four, I don’t expect you to work two shifts straight H. It’s quiet enough that I know you’ll be fine this afternoon, the only thing I ever do when I’m on with Max is extras in the back anyway and then I’ll do four-close with Becs and Mace, we can get all the paperwork and admin done then too. Don’t argue with me Styles, this one is an order.” Harry only smiles at her.

“Promise you’ll go home and sleep?” He holds out his hand, his pinkie finger outstretched and Ally rolls her eyes at him. She hooks her own finger through, regardless and chuckles, nodding at him and turning to release his finger as the bell above the door rings.

 

x

 

Louis is tired by the end of his shift. It had started to slow after breakfast time and by eleven o’clock it’s quiet and Liam is wiping down counters, now is when Louis struggles to keep his head in check. Now is when he feels sad and a bit broken and useless and pointless and out of place. He knows when Liam has picked up on his mood and can already see the Concerned Eyebrows™ (Zayn’s title for them) targeting him and he quickly smiles and points to the back door, quickly taking his break outside. He pulls out a cigarette, hoping to eradicate the permanent smell of coffee attached to his shirt. He’s only halfway through when he hears the bell on the counter inside ding loudly, signalling the need for help.

He drops his smoke, quickly twisting it underfoot and pushing back inside, shoving a piece of gum into his mouth. He strolls back into the store and sees the emergence. There’s a mass group of teenage girls standing before the counter and Liam is already halfway through a latte, a line of cups with scribbled orders written on them standing ready for battle on the counter before him. He smiles at the girls, making conversation as easily as vanilla lattes and laughing along with them.

When they all walk out, phones in hand and take-away cups already poised in the air, the faint sound of camera snaps and loud chatter surrounding them like an aura, Liam is already turning away, trying not to laugh. He feels miserably as Louis juts out a hip, lifts an empty cup from the counter and holds it besides his face. He pouts out his lips and lifts a phantom phone to take a selfie, they’re guffawing into each other’s shoulders within seconds.

The rest of his shift passes smoothly and when Eleanor comes in, her smile tired and her hugs warm he feels like his day has been successful: he has managed to hide his emptiness from Liam yet again. It’s not that he doesn’t want his best friend to know that he feels like he’s nothing and that there’s no longer any point to his life, except Liam would never understand and would sit him down with his Concerned Eyebrows™ and blueberry muffins and Louis knows that it won’t help.

Once he’s said goodbye to Liam and Eleanor, waving a farewell and wrapping his coat around him to try and suck some of the last scents of washing powder into his nose rather than the overwhelming wave of bitter coffee, he fails.

He’s almost two blocks past his flat before he realises how far he’s gone and then he freezes. _Nine blocks now._

It takes him almost a full minute to make himself turn around and walk back the way he had come. Except he doesn’t go to his flat, he doesn’t even stop at the coffee shop, he needs to keep going. _It’s all too close. Twenty-two blocks, twenty-three blocks._

It’s only at thirty-nine blocks that he stops. The bakery smells beautiful and, looking around, Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been this far north and considers going further. Getting further away but glances into the bakery again instead.

With a deep breath he glances back the way he’s come, he stares. _Thirty nine blocks._ Somehow it still feels too close. He steps toward the bakery and pushes the door open instead. 


	3. Blue eyes and chocolate muffins

**Here it is (finally). I'm so sorry it took me so long! I have already got halfway through chapter 3 (Yay) and will be uploading weekly (most probably). I hope to upload on weekends, either a Saturday afternoon or Sunday evening as my work shifts are usually days and I am usually finished before 5 (South Africa time). So you can expect updates from about 16h00 - 22h00 on a Saturday or 18h00 - 22h00 on a Sunday. Anyway, hope this chapter isn't compete rubbish.**

**Leave a comment or a kudos (if you want, consent is important). Much love x**

 

Harry had moved to London to write, at least that had been the plan. Five years, an English Literature degree and several writing courses later; he had run out of words. He sat at his typewriter and stared at his fingers and made cup of coffee are cup of coffee until his very bloodstream was pure caffeine and his fingers were stained with empty letters.

He had moved here to experience life and find his purpose and begin his journey. Instead, he had ended up working the same shift at the same bakery for over four years. The only things he ever wrote now were half-hearted verses and over-compensating emails to his family. He still kept his sharpie on his bedside table for middle-of-the-night bursts of genius. The only things he had ever woken up to were small reminders and, once, a full-on month end grocery list scribbled on his fading white walls. Needless to say, he didn't let his landlord near his bedroom.

He had come here to find his inspiration, and when he had left Holmes Chapel, he had been certain that his inspiration was a person. He would never let anyone know that. Never tell his friends or his colleagues or his mum or even Gemma that he had come here to find his person and write about them for the rest of his life. Except, that had been the plan. He had waited for his love to walk into him and spill his coffee all over his jacket in the street. He had expected them to knock on his door one night, confusing apartments while they were drunk. He had prepared to watch his future partner, his everything to stroll in the bakery door and wink at him and smile a smile that would stop his world and that he could write about for days, to meet eyes that he could write about for weeks and taste lips that he could write about for months. He had written about these meetings, and not one had felt real. Not one had ever happened or been anything he could show anyone. After five years of waiting and expecting and preparing, he had given up.

He tried not to let those thoughts pester him while he was at work, saved those shitty feelings for his shitty flat. So, instead, he left the door to the back kitchen open and he rolled out dough, he cut out pastry, he iced biscuits and baked pies. He focused on the steady creation of food to distract himself from his lack of creation of words. After Ally left Harry had switched the radio on, letting the soft voices and music fill the café. It was usually quiet on weekday afternoons, everyone back at work after their lunch breaks, kids already collected from school and home by now. The only customers that came in now before five were the pickups. It was rare for them to ever really have people sit at the bakery after breakfast. It was technically a café but they only ever really needed the six small tables. Even those six were rarely ever full. In Harry's security of a quiet afternoon he had turned the radio up louder to sing along to the Top 40 show and wasn't watching the front door.

It was only when there was a timid knock on the counter he turned. There was a bell for service on there, more for show than actual necessity, and he was just about to comment this as he stepped through the door after tossing his hair net to the corner of the kitchen when his breath caught in his throat. The man in front of the counter was exactly that, breath-taking. He slouched over slightly and his arms were pushed down into his pockets. He had very very blue eyes, _eyes like sadness on Saturdays and long morning lie-ins,_ and most of the blue was covered by a mess of hair hanging onto his forehead. As Harry stepped forward, his customer smile slipping onto his face the man looked up at him and, _oh he's small, so dainty and slight._

Harry lets his smile grow and relaxes, allowing his "how can I help today?" shell slip into place.

"Good afternoon, how can I help you today?" His voice is too loud and harsh and he knows it. He sees the tiny flinch from the man in front of him and curses himself internally, already submitting to living alone, maybe one day writing about his fourteen cats he's sure he will soon adopt.

"Hi, um, could I just get a cup of tea, do you do Yorkshire?" Before Harry can even respond the boy is going on again. "If you don't that's fine, I can take whatever tea you do have." HIs voice is soft and his words stumble over each other, Harry's heart seems to be having the same reaction. "Yorkshire is a definite yes, wouldn't dream of stocking anything else. It's the owners drink too, so I could probably provide you with about fourteen cups a day." He's still too loud and that was such an unnecessary comment and he hates himself even more. He bumbles around behind the counter, easily pulling out what he needs. "Will that be to go?" He glances up into blue again; his hands poised between the takeaway cups and porcelain mugs. "Um." The boy seems to hesitate, glancing around the shop and then seemingly glancing at the door. "To stay, actually. And, uh, do you have any chocolate muffins?" He turns directly back to Harry at the last comment and his hair has shuffled from his face, his eyes turned up towards him and Harry loses his train of thought for a moment. There are just words running through his head, adjectives and metaphors and streams of letters. "Double chocolate chip muffin and a Yorkshire tea." He pauses. "To stay. Anything else?" He smiles again and tries not to let it show that all that he can really see right now is words surrounding this body in front of him. Words the same colour as his eyes and the same shape as his fingers and the same smell as his laundry detergent. He smiles softly in response and suddenly it's not just words, it's verses and poems and lyrical essays pouring out of Harry's ears. "No, that's perfect, thank you." His words are still so soft, and his eyes are even softer. "Okay, right. Would you like to take a seat and I can bring them over to you? Can I warm the muffin?" The boy blinks in surprise and is then nodding. "Uh, yes, please. To both." He turns away and then turns back to Harry again. "Thank you." There's something so sincere in the way he says it, as though his entire day had hinged on this one offer and Harry watches him walk away for a moment, immediately gravitating to the table beside the window.

Harry smiles, he's definitely in love. Whenever he comes in too early he sits at that table with the lights off and stares out at the street, thinking about this city and these people and anything to generate any words, before today nothing had come. He watched the slender figure drop into the chair and fiddle with the small potted plant resting in the middle of the table. He saw the small smile, his lips curving up again as his small fingers twisted it and let the pot settle back in the middle of the table.

He leaves the tea to seep on the front counter and is about to pull a chilled muffin from the display case when, coincidentally, a small beeping goes off in the kitchen behind him. Instantly he's turning on his heel and marching to the oven in the back corner. Quickly pulling the tray of chocolate muffins from within with a dishtowel wrapped in his hand. He sets it on the counter and pulls out a plate. After dragging the icing sugar from behind the box of flour, he carefully removes a muffin, placing the single hot cake onto the plate. The icing sugar drifts onto it like snow and Harry is imagining how blue those eyes must seem when there's only white and cold and winter surrounding them. _Shards of ice, enigmatically drawing in every trace of light and releasing it in one hard blow directly into Harry's chest._  

As he drops the icing sugar back onto the counter and walks over to the window to collect a violet bud he is imagining what those blue eyes look like when there are oranges and browns and leaves showering down around him and those bright blue windows are shining out amongst the dull colours like beacons, drawing Harry into him. While placing the flower bud and settling the plate, twisting to ensure every angle is perfect he sees those same blue beacons contrasting beautifully to the greens of the fields in his home town, where he would hold his hand and drop onto those blades of grass to see the glass blue match the sky and shock the ground. As he slips through the ajar door and finishes preparing the tea he looks up and all he sees is the blue of the ocean in summer time and he hears loud laughter and smells coconut sun tan oil and sweat and sand and those eyes are staring off so sadly, so suited for winter but so perfectly poised to become summer's foil.

When Harry walks to the table he hopes that he will see all of those contrasts, admire all of the matching shades and complimentary tones, and he knows he's gone. 

The plate is loud when he settles it on the table and both he and the boy flinch away, some strange silence being shattered, never to be repaired again. Harry worries and hates himself a little more. As he lifts the cup and saucer from the tray, "because it's tea and therefore it has to be a  _tea_ cup Ally", the boy is moving the plate, staring in mild shock at the display. Once Harry has settled everything onto the counter the boy looks up again and Harry is caught.

"Thank you," he glances down, "Harry. I hadn't quite expected a meal of a muffin but...thank you." He glances away from Harry's eyes every few words, as though not comfortable with direct eye contact and Harry understands. It's an intimacy he doesn't believe should be given away to just anyone.

"Oh, the uh, the giant muffins are the owner's specialty, she can't stand the smaller ones. Believes them to be "pointless" and a "waste of people's money"." He chuckles and the sad boy smiles lightly in response. "Anyway, I'll leave you to enjoy that. I'll turn the radio down a bit too, if you want. I know it gets quite loud out on this side. The acoustics or summat in the room makes it kind of, yeah." The boy is smiling again, glancing slightly past his head at the light hanging from above, it's the one Harry fixed this morning. This morning feels like a lifetime ago, a lifetime when Harry wasn't in love with blue eyes that have pushed more words into his brain than anything in years.

"Don't worry about it, I like the noise. It's comforting to be able to actually hear the music. I can't stand when," he hesitates suddenly, blinking in some sort of surprise. "Um, when it's too quiet to actually hear anything. Completely pointless." He finishes quietly, almost as though sharing a secret with the world that you don't really want the world to hear. Harry is already nodding before he finishes.

"Exactly. I'll leave it then. I'm right in the back, just shout if you anything else, okay?" The boy smiles, already looking down at his tea. Glancing up as he murmurs one more thank you. Harry leaves the table dazed and itching to pull his notepad out of his bag.

He scribbles as he hides in the back. Switching off the ovens for a bit, allowing the room to cool. The slow breeze of the icy weather outside teases at his hair scraped away from his face. He usually wears his hairnet when in the kitchen but can't be bothered when he's not actually baking. Words poured and dripped and stained the pages until it was a mess of letters and punctuation and beautiful  _creation._ In that moment Harry could cry. Sentences were constructing themselves with half a thought, prose was itching to be dripped down, ink forever blemishing those blank, empty pages. Harry doesn't remember how long he stands there, leaning over the counter and tearing his heart out to bleed onto the cream pages. Four and a half pages later he straightens and quietly tucks his notebook back into his messenger bag hanging beside the door and glances at the clock. It's nearing four and he knows Ally will be back soon to start on extras and the girls will be in for their shift. He had tried to finish as many as he could and he would stay with her to help with prep so that Macy and Becca can focus on the evening rush. He hated the evening rush. He had worked it once and it had been long and hard and everyone is in a bad mood because everyone is taking too long they want to go home  _now._

He had always preferred his morning shift for that. Despite hating having to stay up late and being able to use a job like this as an excuse to avoid evening excursions, he also loved how people were when they arrived; still in that half-asleep stupor. Still preparing themselves for the day ahead. He liked knowing that he was the first person in the real world to properly engage with these people. More than half his regulars had become detailed characters scribbled on baking paper that he had yet to use anywhere. And the other half of his regulars had become contacts on his phone list, had become friends.

The slight boy,  _man?,_ had almost finished his muffin and was cradling his tea cup in his hands, still staring absently out the window when Harry started wiping down counters and preparing his cash up. Every now and then he would glance up. The figure was still taking slow sips from his cup, most of his tea probably cold by now and Harry wondered if there was any tea left in the tea pot or if his stay was coming to an end. He tried spinning a character, coming up with anything material, but while he had found words leaking from his ears, they had dried to a pool of stale letters. The boy had inspired poetry and chapters but he did nothing to create a character. There was nothing Harry could use definitively to describe his nature, his flaws, and development. He was an empty shell of beauty and Harry only realised he was staring when he moved to put the cup down again, leaning back to retrieve his phone from his pocket and sliding it out. He settled down, clicking the home button and then locking it again. 

Harry was about to tear his eyes away when the boy's shoulders drooped and he glanced one more time out the window, straight down the street as though staring at something. Harry quickly looked back to his slips behind the till as the boy drained the last of his tea and straightened his plates. He popped the last bite of the muffin into his mouth and stacked the cup and saucer onto that plate. Pushing all of the extra crockery to the edge of the table and standing. Harry glanced surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye as he shoved his phone back into his back pocket and stood. It was only as the boy picked up his plates and tea pot that Harry rushed from behind the counter.

"Don't worry, sorry about that." He knew, yet again, his voice was too loud and the boy shocked, not just flinching but almost jumping away from him. The cup shook precariously and Harry was quickly reaching out to steady it. Their hands brushed as he did so and he looked up in shock. "I am so sorry; I didn't realise or even think. Shit, are you okay?" As he spoke he gently took the objects from the shaking hands and straightened up. Like this he realised how much taller he really was, standing almost toe to toe.

"That's okay." He was barely even breathing his words. "I hadn't even noticed you had come back out. Sorry, that was my fault I should have been looking where I was going and all and-" A loud bang interrupted them and they both jumped again.

"Sick! He texted me to say he was si-" Ally was yelling from the kitchen and as she stepped through the door into the cafe she froze in horror. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I didn't realise we had a customer in here. Again, so so sorry, sir." Harry was trying quite hard not to laugh and glanced at the boy still standing very close to him; Ally seemed to have noticed this same fact and only just managed to stop from raising her eyebrows at him. 

"That's okay." His voice was as soft and melodious as all the other times he had spoken and he took a step back at the same time as Harry. "Harry was just clearing my table and going to help me settle my bill?" He ended his sentence with a small lift of his voice, questioning Harry while speaking. He looked directly at him again, his eyes as blue as before and drowning Harry again. He struggled to the surface.

"Yes. Sorry about Ally, my wonderful boss forgets about us actually having business sometimes apparently." The boy smiled a bit brighter than before as though unable to control it this time.

"Yes well, your boss's genius muffins make up for that I'm sure." He was smiling softly at Ally now and instantly she relaxed and smiled back, always nervous about customers for some reason.

While Harry dropped off the plates onto the counter Ally asked about his thoughts on the muffins and the tea and, as usual, the general service without outright asking him. It was a talent Harry had yet to master. While ringing up the tea and muffin he watched the boy listen to Ally explain the story of the muffin, which he had heard enough times to recite in his sleep, and observed his eye flickering like before. He would stare into her eyes for a moment and then glance at her hands which were, as usual, gesticulating wildly and then flick back to her face and then flutter to her hair and her apron and her name tag and it was quite incredible how he managed to avoid eye contact. 

Ally stepped aside for him to place the slip onto the counter, she carried on talking and the boy's eyes flickered away to the bill, pulling out his wallet as he nodded at Ally's words. Harry was quite amazed at how he managed to glance away and seem to only be half paying attention but still appear to look as though, at that moment, Ally was the only thing he could see.

"The double chocolate chip, I believe?" He glanced at Harry and he was snapped out his daydream, crashing into the middle of their conversation. He nodded hoping that was the right answer and the boy nodded too. “It was really fantastic, hot and fresh and oozing chocolate, the only way to eat anything really, with dripping chocolate." And Harry was reading too much into it and his mind was going to a filthy place and someone this astonishingly gorgeous was straight, most definitely, but that didn’t mean that he wasn't suddenly picturing chocolate stained sheets and tasting -  _nope, stop now._

 

 He was dropping a note onto the bill and picking up the pen, scrawling a comment and totaling his gratuity on the bill and Harry really was in love. He loved a man who could tip.

Before he could open his mouth again the boy was thanking them again, smiling a soft smile that was stabbing Harry in the heart and all he could get out was "Goodbye." before the boy was turning and Harry wouldn’t stop from glancing down and his head was a truly, truly filthy place as he watched the legs and the arse and  _nope, focus._ The door shut quietly behind him and he waved through the glass window as he walked off down the street and Harry dropped to the counter, deflating like a balloon losing its air.  _Well I have, I suppose, my very oxygen just walked out the door._

"Well he was nice, wasn't he?" He could hear the smirk in Ally's voice. His mumbled 'Fuck you' went unanswered by both the counter he said it to and Ally who was far too smug.

"What's his name?" Harry was pushing himself up and pulling the bill and money towards him and he stops entirely. He stares at Ally and then at his hands and then at Ally again and drops onto the ground. 

"Well, fuck." Ally laughs at him as he leans his head onto his knees crying dramatically, the small  _thank you, everything was wonderful_ scrawled on the bill staring directly at him.


End file.
